Culture Shock
by Xanoka
Summary: Kuon's early days in Japan, creating Ren and carving out his future career.
1. All the world's a stage

Looking around the cavernous room, Kuon tried not to look as nervous as he felt. But really, it was as if the President had deliberately chosen it in all its magnificence to remind him how small he was in comparison. So far from home, late at night, in a strange place, he suddenly felt a lot younger, like a lost little boy. He glanced at the door, almost hoping to see his father appear to rescue him.

He shook himself firmly. He was fifteen and he could deal with this. It wasn't like he had been kidnapped or anything, he had chosen this. Coming to Japan, staying with Uncle Lory – _President Takarada_, he reminded himself_ – _he had chosen it. To escape from his father's shadow and his own mistakes, to forge a new path, and bury his old life, his old self. He could do this.

Thinking of his father did give him an idea, though. This ridiculous room was so over the top, it could almost be a film set, or a hired venue for a location shooting. He had seen plenty of both, trailing after one or the other of his parents while they worked throughout his childhood, and, of course, during his own disastrous attempt to enter the American film industry. Resolutely blocking that particular route down memory lane, he focused instead on the idea. This was a set. A particularly large, elaborate set. He was preparing for a role, gathering his character, while he waited for the director, Uncle Lory.

After all, in a way, it was no less than the truth. He wasn't just waiting for his father's friend in his mansion home. He was waiting for the mastermind behind this new start, who would direct him in the new life he was about to lead. And they weren't just going to discuss his plans for the immediate future, his career, his personal problems or his long-term goals. Together they were going to create his new character for the role he was going to perform in this strange theatre without walls, this limitless set. This crazy, dreamlike paradise of opportunity that was Tokyo. Or so it seemed to an emotionally worn, sleep deprived teenager, whisked through an intimidating array of security personnel from the airport, through the lights and neon of downtown Tokyo to the huge room in the massive mansion in which he now sat. This wasn't really happening. This wasn't his new reality. This was a play, an act.

And suddenly the whole scenario didn't seem so intimidating. He relaxed a little, enough to lean back more comfortably into his armchair. He was going to be a new person. He felt a thrill he hadn't felt in a long while, the thrill of building a character, exploring a new world through new eyes. Who would he be here? A reinvention of himself, without his faults? Polite instead of sarcastic, measured instead of impulsive, grounded instead of arrogant, patient and calm instead of short-tempered, gentle instead of violent. He would be a correction of himself.

This new self would erase all his mistakes, his old life. He'd take on the world, and his time, he would win.


	2. Landlords are a curse

Rent in Tokyo was quite amazing. Even here, for a ten tatami apartment in a fairly shabby building in a quieter Suginami neighbourhood. Ren surveyed his new kingdom doubtfully, mentally reviewing what he might need to buy whilst trying to ignore his new okami-san burning twin holes into the back of his neck.

He had been staying with Uncle Lory – _President Takarada _– for a couple of weeks since arriving in Japan, getting over his jet lag and submitting to a crash course in being Japanese. Of course, he had often spoken Japanese at home with his family, he had visited the country a few times and he had second-hand knowledge of many customs gleaned from his father, but he was swiftly coming to appreciate that he had a lot to learn before he could truly pass as a native.

And he had to.

Tsuruga Ren was Japanese. Completely. He wasn't going to be held back by any of the prejudice he had faced as Kuon. They were determined.

At least he looked Japanese now. The President's effervescent make-up artist Woods-san had dyed Kuon's hair almost as soon as he had arrived, though he was still getting used to the brown contacts. The constant shock of surprise he had initially felt every time he'd glimpsed his reflection had faded almost completely now, like the itching of new skin. He was ready to embrace his new identity.

Getting his own place was supposed to help with this. Being immersed in a typical Japanese neighbourhood, living like a typical Tokyoite, 'fending for himself' as Lory put it. He would really have to become his part; a young, rootless aspiring actor. Though, of course, he had the advantage other friendless aspiring actors lacked of having a guarantor in Lory. Or rather, Lory's taciturn assistant, since the man himself was apparently too recognisable to visit Tokyo's landlords.

And that was the other reason for the move. Ren Tsuruga was in no way connected to Lory Takarada. He was an unknown actor, without connections, recently arrived in Tokyo to pursue his dreams. He would audition to enter LME. He would not receive any special treatment or favours, so anything and everything he achieved would undeniably be built on his merit alone. He would not be in any way connected to the young, slightly bewildered foreigner who had stayed for a while with the President of LME. Nor was he likely to have the funds to stay anywhere in Tokyo that could be described as luxurious.

So here he was.

Kuon's new home comprised of a single room, two counting the tiny adjoining bathroom. He had already looked that over and was slightly dismayed, but not surprised after his recent research, to discover it housed a traditional Japanese bath and shower, being a deep tub and hose. The main room was completely unfurnished, apart from the sink, oven and stove, two cupboards and a work surface. They were all small, though that hardly mattered since he was unlikely to actually use them. He'd need to buy a futon, he reflected, and a fridge, for sure. He really only intended to sleep here, so nothing else currently seemed important, though his landlady's distracting presence might have been clouding his judgment.

He turned to face her now, with the gentle, polite smile he had been practising in front of the bathroom mirror firmly in place. It would be his trademark, he had decided, and it was going to carry him through any and all social situations, awkward or otherwise. After all, Tsuruga Ren would never be anything less than patient, polite and respectful towards an older lady, no matter how unreasonable or irascible she might be.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, okami-san?" he asked, carefully keeping any trace of sarcasm out of his voice.

She just sniffed, and continued to glower. Ren allowed himself to frown slightly, as if concerned before continuing.

"Is everything alright, okami-san? The paper work was all in order, wasn't it? And you have received the payment for my key money and deposit, haven't you? Have I forgotten anything? This is my first time living alone." He smiled what he hoped was a slightly sheepish, but disarmingly boyish smile. It usually worked.

But not this time. Instead her eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if he had just touched on what had been bothering her all along.

"It's strange," she stated bluntly. "A boy like you living alone. How old are you, boy?"

Kuon had to hold his breath for a long moment. _Tsuruga Ren. Tsuruga Ren. Tsuruga Ren._

He focused on smiling his friendly, polite, not-at-all-offended smile and replied smoothly, if mendaciously. "I'm eighteen, okami-san. And I suppose it is a little strange. But I don't have any family." He smiled sadly, and was careful to drop his head a little as he spoke, allowing his fringe to fall into his eyes in what was hopefully an endearingly vulnerable posture. Sure, playing the poor, lonely orphan card was a cheap shot, but gaining a sympathetic, helpful landlady would be a blessing at this stage, especially as he was still trying to acclimatise to living in Japan.

His hopes were immediately crushed, however, as her hard, bony hand seized his chin and jerked his head up roughly.

"Don't think that'll work on me, boy," she hissed. I've seen your type before. I expect you think with your pretty face you can come here and do whatever you want. Runaways!" When he didn't reply, too shocked to respond, she continued, sneering. "Kids like you are all the same. Think a smile and a little sob story pays for rent? Think you can just leave home, come to Tokyo, and what? I doubt you even finished high school! Or have a job. How do you think you're going to pay rent? Well, I'm telling you now, I am not a charity. You can't pay, you'll be out on the street!"

By some miracle the smile was still in place, though it must have been several degrees colder. His face was starting to hurt from the effort. Pulling away from her grip and taking a step backwards, Ren carefully and unnecessarily smoothed his shirt before replying. Charm wasn't working, it was time for the cool, direct approach.

"Okami-san, I beg your pardon if I have offended you, but you are mistaken. I am not a runaway. I have no family. But you've met my guarantor. You know I can pay. I have savings, and I have work, so please don't concern yourself on that score. In fact I've already paid your key money, a deposit and a month's rent upfront, just as you asked. Or was there a problem with the payment?" He met her eye squarely, daring her to say anything. He knew for a fact that there hadn't been.

She bristled, as if he and not she had been unrelentingly rude. Though, a corner of Kuon's mind had to acknowledge that his tone had ended up being more biting than Ren's should have been.

He had to be more careful.

So, in an attempt to remedy the situation, he bowed carefully. It still felt strange, and he hoped it didn't look as awkward as it felt. President Takarada had assured him he was getting much better. When he straightened up he added in a milder tone, "Is there anything else you need, okami-san?"

She surveyed him haughtily, then snapped, "Rent is due on the first of the month."

He nodded and bowed again. "Thank you. I look forward to being your tenant. Please take care of me. Oh, and have a good evening."

The words rolled strangely off his tongue, but she sniffed, seeming to accept the familiar Japanese platitude, then left without saying another word.

Kuon sighed, immensely relieved to be free of her. But as the silence settled around him, he began to feel uneasy. Without the distraction of his landlady's presence, the reality of the situation was creeping in to strangle him.

It was in the whirring of bicycles, indistinct voices calling out to each other on the street and the growl of cars passing as commuters headed home. With the sound of every one of his breaths and the thudding of his heart loud in his ears, he could feel it ever more distinctly.

He was alone.


	3. Fateful meeting

A/N: I was going to wait before posting this, since I've planned a few chapters that chronologically precede it, but since I haven't written or posted anything for a while, I figured I'd just go ahead and post it anyway. Future chapters will be out of order.

* * *

"Ah, Ren. Overly punctual as ever, I see." The President, looking fresh as a daisy, despite the fact it wasn't even eight o'clock, beamed at his young protégé.

Ren returned the greeting more placidly and accepted the seat his superior offered him with a lazy wave of his hand.

Ren _was _early, half an hour early. He had slept badly, woken by nightmares repeatedly. By the time five a.m. rolled around, he simply gave up and got up to face the day. Kuon's fist clenched involuntarily at the reminder, and he swiftly turned the motion in a brushing gesture, as he smoothed an imaginary crease in his immaculately pressed trousers.

He had thought he was past all that by now.

It had been nearly a year and a half. His career was blossoming, though some commentators may have preferred to say sky-rocketing, and he was really too busy to think about anything other than work. Far too busy.

Hence the need for this meeting, though he still wanted to protest weakly. He did so now.

"I still don't think this is really necessary, sir."

President Takarada rolled his eyes theatrically. "Ren, you have offers flowing in non-stop. Poor Matsushima–san can barely keep up, and you know he has the whole acting department to manage, not just you. And you really shouldn't have made that comment about R'Mandy in that last interview, you know. You'll have the whole modelling industry fighting for a piece of you now."

"You make me sound like meat."

Lory bestowed a rather pitying smile on the actor. "You _are _meat. _Fresh _meat! That's what this whole industry is about! Honestly, I thought you knew that. You're the new face – new and exciting! Every eye is on you! You've just got to keep it that way. Keep the audience's attention! And their love!" His smile was beatific as he flung an arm out dramatically for emphasis.

Ren did not roll his eyes. Tsuruga Ren would never roll his eyes. Even if his boss was insane.

"Speaking of love, let's not forget about that incident last week. You've still got the scratches, right?"

Ren winced and put a hand up to his neck. It had only been three girls, but it sufficed to say: fan girls could be terrifying. Somehow they'd slipped past security as he was leaving a studio after a job. In all honesty, it was in that moment that he first started seriously crediting the President's warnings about his security in the face of his growing fame. He had seen the fans outside, of course, as he entered and left the building, but he really hadn't thought they were there for him. He was playing a supporting role in a medical drama, and there were several far more established and, he had assumed, more popular actors and actresses in the lead roles.

Regardless of the fact that such offers for supporting roles were starting to thin out in favour of main parts, he still sometimes had a hard time believing the rate of his popularity's growth.

"Which just goes to prove my point," the President continued blithely. "You need a manager. Someone to arrange your schedule, answer your job offers and look out for your security. Luckily for you, I've found _just _the man for you. He has a few – eccentricities, but I assure you, he's very good at what he does."

Ren eyed his boss doubtfully. Currently arrayed like an eighteenth century Venetian gondolier, the words _pot _and _kettle _ran through his mind.

He shifted his seat a little to avoid getting the hem of his coat in the artificial river that surrounded them. He should have surrendered it to the aide before entering the room, but he really hadn't expected something like this. Their chairs, plus another prepared for the candidate, were positioned in an oversized replica gondola, reached by stepping stones from the door.

Ren shook his head. The President truly was insane. Who else would turn their entire office into what was essentially a paddling pool so he could cosplay? From where he was sitting he could even see koi carp, lazily wending their way past his seat. _Hardly a historically accurate feature_, Ren's inner pedant whispered. The floor tiles were also highly polished – were they actually mirrors? He would put nothing past the President. Glancing down, he could clearly see his own reflection.

But, then, who was he to judge?

Lory was still chattering gleefully about this paragon among managers. Listening with half an ear, Ren gathered he had poached him somehow from Akotaki.

"Not that it was Yashiro-san's fault, of course, that young man going off the rails like that. They really need to keep better control of their talents over there, and there's only so much a manager can do," he finished, trying and failing to sound appropriately sympathetic about the rival agency's misfortune. "Oh, but don't give me that look!" he complained. "It is a shame, of course, but one must look on the bright side! A very talented young man has been liberated from his old duties, and can now go on to brighter, bolder things! I've thought for a while that he might suit you – I mentioned him once before, do you remember? – and now the timing for you both is perfect!"

"Oh, really? So what'll it be, a May wedding?" Ren could have bitten his own tongue.

Fortunately, Lory just laughed, genuinely amused. "Oh, I don't think so, young man! Don't think I didn't hear about that girl from the PV. What was her name? Kisa-chan? Or was it Kira-chan? I forget."

Ren flushed, but was saved from replying by the sight of Lory's aide materialising at his elbow to announce their guest's arrival.

"Ah, he's early! Just like you! Didn't I say you two were suited to each other?"

Biting back a comment about matchmakers, Ren turned in his seat to face the door. In all honesty he was favourably impressed by the man's promptness. Since beginning his career in Japan, Ren had garnered a flawless record for punctuality, and he intended to keep it that way, with or without a manager's help.

That initial good impression was a little confused the moment a slim, good looking young man stepped through the door and stopped short at the edge of the 'river'. From what the President had been saying about security, Ren had been expecting someone beefy, like a body guard. This – Yashiro-san, was it? – was slim, almost willowy, and shorter then he was, though in fairness, most people were.

_I could take him in a fight_, the irrational thought flitted across his mind, and Ren squashed it ruthlessly. Still, he wasn't what he'd been expecting in some kind of protector. If anything, standing next to him, Ren suspected he'd look like _his _body guard.

And he was so young. He'd been expecting someone older, much older. Sure, Lory had called him a "young man", but men his age called everyone that, didn't they? Ren was barely seventeen, and this man only looked about twenty, mid-twenties at most.

Though aside from that, he did look the part, immaculately dressed in a light grey suit, wearing glasses and a serious look and carrying a black leather briefcase. With light brown hair and eyes, porcelain skin and high cheekbones, he looked like he might have just wandered in from a photo shoot. Was he an escapee from the modelling department, maybe?

Though, judging by his comically wide-eyed expression as he took in the scene before him, he had not met the President before.

_Yes_¸ Ren thought with a certain amount of grim satisfaction. _Drink it all in. Welcome to the insanity._

To his credit, Yashiro-san recovered quickly, and stepped forward right to the edge of the pool before hesitating.

Lory seemed to have enjoyed watching his reaction too, and was smiling broadly as he stood to welcome him. "Yashiro-san!" he boomed jovially. "Thank you for coming! Please, come and join us! Just use the stepping stones, I assure you it is quite safe."

Smiling gamely, Yashiro lifted his leg high to step over the edge of the pool and reach the first stepping stone with exaggerated care. Ren watched with sympathy. Meeting a new potential client must be nerve wracking enough without adding in the extra nightmare possibility of an embarrassing, unplanned soaking.

However, he reached the gondola without mishap and with evident relief, and Ren couldn't help smiling warmly as he rose to greet him.

"Hello, I'm Tsuruga-Ren," he said, holding out his hand without thinking. "Please take care of me."


End file.
